Bitter Frost
by frinkonium
Summary: With the shadow of his past looming over his mind, Siegfried undertakes his final journey to Ostrheinsburg. Rated for violence, language.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I don't own Soulcalibur. No surprise.

**Prologue**

An inhuman roar reverberated through the empty halls, shaking the foundations of the cathedral. The sound of water flowing around the entirety of the structure continued its everlasting music and cascaded into the steep cliffs below, indifferent to the struggle of two combatants. Only the cathedral's flagged stone floor were thick with metallic shards and blood bore any hint of the ferocious battle.

Nightmare, the demon clad in azure armor, surveyed its challenger with its piercing red eyes. The sword it held in a monstrous claw writhed with living sinew, flesh and blood, on which a single bloodshot eye pulsed. Nightmare knelt to avoid a blow and launched itself into the air, only to have its attack deflected by a large crystalline blade.

Following this parry, the wielder of the crystalline blade, a man named Siegfried, charged forward with his blade upright like a wall. Nightmare fell back from this sudden attack, rusted helm and armor clattering on the stones.

Siegfried stumbled to his feet. His golden hair shone in the setting sun and his bloodied armor was shattered, with entire pieces torn off in the onslaught. Blinking away the blood and sweat that ran into his eyes, he swung his own blade to hew the demon claw's grip from the evil sword.

But the demon would not be defeated so easily. It rolled to the side to avoid the blow, and rose in a burning wrath. Turning around, it lunged with its sword raised in its armored hand. Siegfried, surprised by this sudden charge, leapt to the side to dodge the vertical slash. As he turned around, the cursed blade came again from the right and slashed a deep wound on his unprotected chest.

Siegfried gasped and collapsed onto one knee. He shook as he struggled to stay upright, hand clenching the fresh wound to stem the bleeding. But the wound was too severe; there was no more he could do to save himself. His vision blurred as the blood began pooling at his feet. Siegfried looked up to the form of Nightmare as it turned to face him, gloating with triumph as he fell at last, head slamming on the hard stones. Yet the pain of death was no greater than knowing he would die, hands stained with murder of thousands, his comrades…and his father. The false image of his father flashed before his anguished mind, telling him of a repentance that seemed impossible, of hope that was so frail, before vanishing into the depths of his tormented mind.

Siegfried glanced at the sword in his hand. It remained cold and lifeless; powerless against the monstrous blade of his opponent's. But he had to keep fighting, with or without the full might of the crystal sword. Without redeeming himself, he could not face those he killed unjustly. He would not let his journey of redemption be in vain, he could not...Clenching his teeth, he tightened his grip on the encrusted hilt with his remaining strength.

Nightmare's laughter echoed in the silent halls.

"This is the power you seek to redeem for your sins? It does not have any power to protect you, let alone save you from your madness. How can someone as cursed as you wield the holy blade? There is no redemption for the fool that you are. Now, fall into darkness you created yourself..."

Nightmare raised Soul Edge as the last rays of the sun faded, enveloping the cathedral in darkness. The red sword in its hand awoke, strengthened from the growing dark. Nightmare swept his blade downwards to behead its former host. With a yell, Siegfried swung the crystal blade upwards in an attempt to parry.

The crystalline blade, sensing the desperation of its wielder, erupted in blue flames. The core's fell blue light intensified as the evil blade came closer and closer…until it struck the glowing red edge.

For a moment, the water stopped flowing as a deathly silence filled the cathedral. From the center of the clash came a great flash of light as the air was being torn apart and was swallowed in the void. Before either of them reacted, the void vanished and sealed itself, sending a shockwave through the cathedral. The stone floor between the combatants collapsed into rubble, and Nightmare and Siegfried were blasted to the opposite sides of the cathedral room. Nightmare, armor rented and scorched, was thrown over the balcony and landed with a sickening splash in the pure waters of the cathedral. Siegfried, too, felt the heat of the explosion as he was blasted backwards to a metal grate and crumpled on the ruined floor.

"No…"

Siegfried lay on the ground buried in debris from the ruined cathedral. The shockwave had sent shards of his armor and metal through him. He could no longer recognize what remained of him. But he cared not. Thoughts of regret and his failed redemption assailed him. He had been so close…had he not been hindered by his wounds, he rued bitterly.

Even now the darkness was returning, claiming the one who had escaped from it for so long. Night fell upon the cathedral. With an anguished cry of failure upon his lips, Siegfried felt himself fade and saw no more.

How he longed to stay in the darkness everlasting, alone.

But why did peace still elude him?

Siegfried was vaguely aware of his consciousness as he drifted through the silence. Memories of his last battle seemed dim and the violent clash, no more than a distant echo. Though he was getting accustomed to darkness, part of him remained unyielding, refusing to accept that he was…that he was…

Wait.

Was this dark really there? He did not dare to open his eyes, if any existed to him, to find out.

A distant ringing could be heard, clear and rippling through his consciousness.

"_Do you wish to repent?" _

The voice was commanding and cold as moonbeams shining through mist. His consciousness shivered; without a corporal form, his thoughts, his fears and anguish were bared before the presence.

"What—what are you?"

"_I am the Spirit Sword."_

Siegfried trembled in shock. The sword ignored this, and spoke again.

"_You are close, Siegfried Schtauffen. So close."_

"No. I failed. There are no more chances. I have lost."

A blue glow flickered in the dark as the voice continued.

"_I will give you your last chance. If you wish to return, you must bind your existence to me. If not, you are free to die. The world will be at the mercy of the Great Evil, and all those you wanted to protect will be consumed by it. They will be condemned to everlasting torment, and believe that the one could end it would not. Is that what you wish?"_

"No! I cannot leave them to fight what I have unleashed upon them. I wish to end this evil. But how, how can you―?"

"_I will heal you and return you to the cathedral. Though your wounds were grievous, I have the power to restore you. Bind your existence to me. You will not fail."_

Siegfried hesitated. He did not know the true intentions of the sword. Holy or not, there had to be another reason why it had chosen him to end the cursed blade. But he dared not ask this moment. If he wanted repentance, there was no choice for him, only necessity.

The blade ignored his thoughts again and pressed him to answer.

"_Do you accept?" _it asked again.

"…I accept."

A soft blue glow in the depths of the dark appeared, and grew until he was surrounded by it.

That light---

It could not be…

A blue beam flickered past his eyelids.

_What is happening to me? Why am I…?_

Siegfried slowly opened his eyes. He was lying face down on the ruined stone floor.

He tried to take a breath, but quickly gasped in pain, now aware of the frigid air and his sustained injuries. Raising his head, he saw Soulcalibur, planted in the ground in front of him, blue and cold.

He did not rise, but remained where he was, trying to remember.

He fought Nightmare and suffered near-fatal wounds. Soul Edge and Soulcalibur clashed and erupted in a cataclysmic burst of energy. But what became of him? How was he able to survive the ordeal? Why was he allowed to return, alive? Even as Siegfried was confounded with these new thoughts, the pain from his injuries lessened.

Examining his wounds once more, he realized they now appeared to be several days old. Even as he watched, the cuts and flayed skin on his hand slowly disappeared. He moved his hand to his chest. Though that wound was still deep and raw, that too, was healing.

Siegfried rose to his feet and drew Soulcalibur from the rubble. Upon his touch, the blade awoke. The core shone with a blazing blue light. Though he shielded himself from the growing light, he did not withdraw his hand. The hilt grew icy cold and a wind from the core enveloped and repaired his broken armor, before hardening into a shining layer of crystal.

Siegfried raised the gleaming sword to the brightening skies. The sun rose like flames over the horizon as the last of the stars faded from the heavens. Since his journey to darkness, the true dawn was a gift; its gold signaled the purity that still remained on Earth. But there was no time to enjoy this brief moment of peace when he knew of the storm that stood between him and his fate. Without a moment's hesitation, Siegfried turned around and began his descent from the charred ruins of the cathedral.

So the sword had kept him alive long enough to fulfill his duty. He accepted its offer, and there was but one path open to him. His last chance. This time, he would not fail.

-Chapter End-

A/N

That's it for now. Comments, constructive criticism are welcome, as are questions. And, since this is my first fanfic, flaming is discouraged _. As you might have guessed, I wrote this right after SCIV came out, but I wasn't too happy with it and have been rewriting bits of it ever since. This is still a work in progress, but I hope I can finish this someday!

Chapter one is in rough draft. Sorry for not submitting it with the prologue (like I should).

I am currently looking for a beta reader, I can't always catch my mistakes you know = . =

Frink out.


	2. Night

**Chapter One**

Night

Argh, this chapter is long overdue…sorry! I wanted to publish it in June, but I was actually abroad since May, and then that was followed by a video card problem, then about two weeks of recovering data T_T. That was just the first of all my computer problems until now. Anyway, enjoy.

_He could see the sun setting before him. _

_Siegfried had lost count of time wandering the labyrinth. The days had been marked by the faint rush of water, the cold wind blowing through the ancient stone halls, and the pale wisps that fluttered at his feet. He ran towards the failing sunlight. _

_Tall pillars now loomed over his head, and he beheld a great, stone vaulted roof was carved with images of heaven. The water played its music amidst the fountains, flowing down the sides of the stonework. Siegfried could not imagine Nightmare in a place like this; the sheer beauty of the architecture and the aura of the cathedral did not seem to allow evil to enter. His footsteps echoed in the halls as he walked towards the sunset. Yet he felt strange, as if there was another who watched, another who drew breath in the cathedral, waiting as he was. Siegfried glanced around him, but saw nothing._

_Taking a deep breath, he drew the Soul Embrace and placed it in the flowing water. _

_Nothing happened. The Embrace remained lifeless, bathed in the red of the westward sun. Black despair crept into his mind and his hands clenched the stone railing in silence. He was at the end of another fruitless journey, had reached the ends of the known world, endured countless battles and relied on the whispers of a long forgotten legend, and to what end? The Embrace still lived, his hands were still stained with his father's blood, and Nightmare had eluded him… _

_But as he stood, the living eye in Soul Edge flickered open and the air became still. The demon was near. _

"_Have you seen your fruitless battles to redeem yourself and wish to have my power again?" a voice growled behind him._

"_No. Atonement is within my grasp, and vain is your temptation. I have defeated you with my will and it will serve me once more." _

_Requiem in hand, Siegfried turned to face both his greatest enemy and his former self._

_Nightmare bore the remains of the azure armor Siegfried shattered months before, but the form it encased now took was devoid of life. It spoke with each word echoing in its hollow armor, and in its eyes burned flames of hell. The monster's distorted form was not as he imagined; but guilt flooded his conscience when he realized this was his form for the past seven years, the last sight of the thousands he murdered. But there was one feature he did not recognize; a single, bloody horn protruding from the helm. Its red eyes flared when they met Siegfried's._

"_So you wish for death?" Nightmare continued. "Very well. You shall see your father soon, and he will realize what his bastard son was worth!" _

_But before Nightmare raised his own blade, a strange, white-hooded man appeared behind it. The man was silent at the sight of the Embrace and raised his scythe. Siegfried watched in terrified awe as the blades separated in a great flash of light and flew to the opposite sides of the room, where they clattered, dull and lifeless. _

_The man stood for a moment in great debate of mind. Siegfried rushed forward to seize the man, and demand answers, but the man had already vanished. Taking no heed of the man's mysterious appearance, Nightmare leapt forward and seized the larger blade of Soul Edge, while Siegfried cast aside Requiem and grasped Soulcalibur._

_He could not count the times he had parried and dodged the Nightmare's blows. With each passing moment, his strikes became more desperate, and both his blood and Nightmare's decaying flesh fell like rain on the stones. All he knew was to defend himself for as long as it took and find the perfect chance to strike Soul Edge. But no matter how he struck Nightmare, it did not tire, and remained unhindered by its injuries. His growing frustration left him defenseless for Nightmare's sudden attack. When Nightmare went to finish him off, light erupted between them and he felt himself fade into nothingness._

_He opened his eyes to embrace the darkness. But instead he saw branches above him. He stumbled backwards and felt rough bark against his armor. Siegfried scrambled to his feet and staggered through the forest with his hand in front of him to guide him through the darkness. There seemed to be no end to this forest, he thought after a long while, and no end to the night._

"_Siegfried."_

_He whirled around, but could not see who it was. _

"_Leave me." Siegfried spoke to the darkness. _

_The man who spoke stepped out of the shadows. He was older than Siegfried had last seen him in the dark woods nearly four years ago. Yet he seemed so different, and distant. Siegfried was startled most by the man's expression; he could not remember seeing him so grave._

"_Burke…why have you come?"_

_The man bowed his head in grief._

'_You can't do this yourself. What of our oath, and the Schwarzwind? What of our friendship?'_

'_No one will ever again be a part of my life. Those words were spoken before my dark fate, and they cannot possibly endure the trials that will follow. Our oath…merely words. Nothing more. Leave. Forget everything you knew of me.'_

_Then a woman's voice came to him from behind. _

'_I know what you have done. Now you devote your life to atoning for your sins. To walk with closed eyes to certain death…are you not as much a victim of that blade as the others?'_

_He turned around. Saria stood there, face weary from grief and pity, much like Burke's had been. A fresh cut was visible on her cheek, and tears welled in her bruised eyes. She stood not as the brash young woman he had known, but as one wholly defeated._

'_No! No matter what beguiling words you whisper, my father is dead by my hand, not by any cursed blade. I have sinned, and must set out to do all I can to atone, or die. I will not involve any other, nor risk those whom are free.' _

_As Siegfried answered, both Burke and Saria faded from his vision, and the dark forest was replaced by a wide forest clearing. The wind blew the clouds from the moon, and suddenly the head he held triumphantly aloft was revealed. He saw the face, and there was no denying the truth. It was his father. Anguish tore at his heart and he wanted to scream in grief and madness before the lifeless eyes. But before he could move, the clearing vanished and he was standing in a foot of fresh fallen snow. His numbed mind urged him forward, and so he trudged through the snow with his arm held before him to shield his face from the blinding snow. A heavy wooden door stood in front of him. A woman was speaking behind it, but he could not remember who she was. When he reached to push open the door, it vanished before his fingertips, and he was alone in the cold. The snow whirled around him, obscuring his vision, though he knew there was nothing to see. _

_The anguished voices echoing in the wind tormented him. There was nothing he could do, he realized. He sank to his knees in the snow, and did not care if he ever rose again. _

The first rays of the sun crept over the horizon. Siegfried opened his eyes, wondering where he was. He was reminded suddenly when he felt hard crystal on his back. He stood up from beneath the rock he was resting under and began another day's march, the voices from the dream gnawing at his heart.

Though spring was coming, the sun barely pierced the thick clouds that blanketed over the land. Yet there was no sign of life. The few larches he saw were bare and no fish swam beneath the frozen streams. He had not seen a deer, hare, nor heard the sound of a bird for days. Whether the desolation was due to the slow coming of spring, or the cold aura of the spirit blade, he did not know.

The Black Forest stretched out before him. The great forest stood unyielding before the shadow of Ostrheinsburg. Tall pines were blanketed with snow and a foot of it still lay on the forest ground. Siegfried knew the path through the forest was the shortest route to the cursed city and he could remain unseen beneath the trees.

He trekked carefully in the snow, which proved extraordinarily difficult in his armor. Thrice he had lost his balance and fallen as he crossed the forest to look for buried trails. When night fell, he stopped to rest under the bole of a great pine. Siegfried was silently thankful he did not need to fear cold and death in the wilderness as long as he was bound to the Spirit Sword. He drew the blade from the sheath on his back. The edges glowed fainter than he remembered, but the core shone brighter, as if it was alive. He was suddenly aware of that the sword may house a spirit much like Soul Edge had been. He had spoken to it, but the true nature of the sword remained unknown to him, and he dared not ask it. It had left him in a strange existence. Siegfried felt he may no longer be human, as he felt not the hunger, thirst or cold. But his deeply harbored regrets remained with him, yet it was not the same as before. The urgency to destroy Soul Edge slowly filled his waking thoughts.

He wondered what else the sword would ask for return before he drifted into sleep.

* * *

The next day's march began under a sunless sky. The resulting cold did not trouble Siegfried at all, and neither did the accompanying wind. After he had been walking for an hour, he stopped. The old trail he had been walking along suddenly came to a dead end on a cliff edge. A great mountain loomed in the distance and though he could not see it, he knew that the ruins of the cursed city lay within its western slopes by the Rhine.

Siegfried looked around. There was no path to the lower part of the forest. He could not turn back to seek another trail; he had no time for that. He looked down the edge, and saw a small boulder jutting out of the rock face. Siegfried took a deep breath and lowered himself off the edge to test the strength of the foothold. It supported his weight, but barely a minute after he stood, the rock beneath his right hand crumbled. Siegfried cursed at his ill luck, but the rock under his left hand stood fast. He spent a considerable amount of time looking for more footholds and endured a few falls, but he finally managed to reach the base of the cliff.

There was no trail to follow anymore. The snow was much deeper here, and the trees grew more thickly. Siegfried trudged through this desolate region for several days and stopped only when night fell and it became difficult to see properly.

By the end of the fourth day, he noticed the land was sloping upwards. He had reached the base of the mountain. Siegfried turned southward for a time, but resumed his westward journey as soon as he reached the southern base of the great peak. He did not notice a change in the forest during the last few days of the journey. There had been great snows, low hanging branches that occasionally caught his cloak and scratched his face, and the brooding silence. But suddenly he noticed the snow was thinning and the pine needles were dried and sickly-looking. Siegfried's concerns grew as he noticed more and more of the great forest exhibited signs of this curse. He stopped to examine the trunk of a particularly weak fir.

Soulcalibur sent a chill to his back. He drew the blade. The sword beckoned him to plant it in the ground. Siegfried hesitated, but he obeyed.

A crystalline growth spread from the blade and covered the ground around the desolation. The tree regained its vigor, and a cold wind blew across the region. The snow did not return, but the chill emanating from the blade was sufficient in covering the trees with a shining layer of frost. Siegfried instinctively touched the tree he had been examining. The frost was cold, but hard as glass. It did not disappear under his fingertips, nor did it crumble off and shatter at his feet. The fir was preserved under the frost in a state of incorruptible splendor. Siegfried wondered if the tree was just dormant under the layer of frost, and whether it could recover and rejoice in the spring sun once more. As he passed, he assured himself the tree would remain safe under the frost until the curse on the land lifted.

After an hour's march the signs of death and decay became more apparent. Great pines were dead and lay uprooted on the burned forest ground. _Nightmare's servants had come this way, _he thought. The damage extended as far as he could see. Siegfried continued along the ravaged path for some time, but he did not see signs of another being.

It was not long until Siegfried reached another precipice and beheld the vast dark sky. The Black Forest now was behind him, and a great moonlit plain stretched before him. And beyond his sight, he knew, stood the dark walls of Ostrheinsburg Castle, a shadow even the moon could not pierce.

He remembered standing here once before, in what felt like a different age of the world. He had been the curse he now had to fight. Except the same evil that claimed him, was now fed by memories of mortal agony, delusion and insanity that took place on this now cursed land. Its former might had been restored, stronger than it ever had been since its birth.

He drew Soulcalibur. Its core shone with a cold blue light. His friends' grief-stricken faces flashed again in his mind. The words from his dream echoed in his mind, telling them to leave, that he was to be alone if he did not want to inflict his death on others.

The sword in his hand was all that remained in his life. He could not allow memories of warmth drive the chill from his heart.

* * *

A feeble sun rose as he began to cross the plain. The barren ground had been trampled, as if an army had passed by. The air was also heavy with the smell of blood. Berserkers had been cut down and left on the field; their rusted blades lay beside their corpses while carrion birds circled overhead. Siegfried covered his face from the stench as he stepped over the bodies.

He had not gone far when he heard a dart strike his shoulder and bounce off his armor. He drew Soulcalibur and hewed the berserker that crept behind him. The one that had fired the dart leapt over its fallen comrade and brandished a long knife. Siegfried thrust Soulcalibur forward and impaled the demon, before slamming the blade down on another that came from the left. He was about to sheathe Soulcalibur when another demon that hid amongst the dead, stood up with a rusted axe and seized his cloak. Siegfried turned around.

An arrow flew through the air and pierced the demon below the shoulder. It fell with a shriek, but Siegfried merely kicked the corpse off him and went on his way. He had not gone far when he heard hooves behind him. Siegfried paid no attention and continued walking.

"Halt." A woman's sharp voice commanded.

He stopped, and turned around to see a spear pointed at his neck.

* * *

A/N

In Soulcalibur 3, the location of the Lost Cathedral is never revealed. I hinted it at the Alps, due south of Germany. I used some geography from the Black Forest too.

As for the two characters introduced in this chapter, only Saria is canon. The only Saria I heard of was a green-haired Kokiri girl. I have made Burke the unnamed man from the Schwarzwind that speaks to Siegfried at the end of his Soulcalibur ending. He is actually not named there, so I have named him.

You might have noticed I used some parts from the SCIV's intro here. As for how canon the story is to SCIV, I'm not going to give details on that ^_^ But rest assured, the ending's been outlined already (since I first thought up of this fic!). Since we're all (inevitably) drawing from the same body of work, there's going to be some similarities between endings and interpretations. I have decided for the moment to spell Soulcalibur as one word. I might change my mind later. The only reason is because the game suddenly started spelling it like that. Very confusing __

Stay tuned. In the next chapter there will be *gasp* dialogue…!

Also, if there's anything I missed or something that bothers you (grammar or detail-wise), leave a message.

-Frinky

*Activates cloaking device*


	3. Fence of Swords

**Chapter 2**

Fence of Swords

A figure on a brown horse stood before him. An elaborate silver helm and armor gleamed upon her head, but Siegfried could not see her face. She bore a short sword at her side, and a gilded, red and black standard hung from the spear she pointed at him.

"Swordsman. To enter this territory in time of war bears the penalty of death. State your name and purpose!"

Siegfried's fingers tightened around the hilt of Soulcalibur. But he needed no weapon to hold against the army that stood before him; he heard the horses whinny in terror and saw the unease of the riders trying to restrain them. The leader alone withstood the sight of him, for her pride overcame her fear of his aura.

"I am Siegfried Schtauffen. I seek the one called Nightmare, the scourge of this land. Such is known to you, I guess," he said, with a glance at her standard and weapon. "There is no other purpose for an army here. But you should not challenge those in a land that you did not win or give command to one who swore no allegiance to you."

The woman did not withdraw her spear, affronted. "But as the sovereign and heir of the great kingdom of Wolfkrone, I, Princess Hildegard von Krone, have command and the allegiance of the army that now occupies this cursed land. Therefore, I may pronounce judgment on those who enter foolishly in such a time of danger."

"You would do well not to hinder me, _Princess_," Siegfried replied disdainfully. "There are enough servants of Soul Edge. The evil does not need those that claim to oppose it; it needs pawns that interfere with those powerful enough to stop it."

Hilde's fist clenched the reins of her horse.

"Schtauffen," she responded sternly. "You are a stranger in these lands if you do not know the valor of my people. For seven years I have labored to free this land from the curse, and I will not have you doubt me. We have destroyed the armies of this Nightmare you speak of, and you can see that before your eyes. I have not seen this demon in my battles, but I know enough from its servants that some malice drives them. If this source of this evil is material, our swords will drive it away. If it is not, our courage will suffice."

Siegfried let out a harsh laugh of derision. "I have heard the same words a thousand times from hopefuls and fools, unknowingly walking to their deaths, seeking to challenge this evil. If you are wise, leave. I have witnessed the power of the blades that stand opposite, and neither skill nor weapon you have can match this ancient evil."

"Then do you bear some weapon or have some skill beyond the reckoning of man? Why are you an exception to the doom you just named?"

"I will say no more," he replied, as he turned to leave.

But Hilde's gaze was fixed on the weapon Siegfried held in his hand. Soulcalibur's core gleamed and Hilde slowly removed her helm in shock. For a moment, she forgot all else and heeded only its quiet voice echoing in her mind. She strained to hear its strange words, but their meaning eluded her, so great was the enchantment of the visions it showed her. The Wolfkrone castle, towering over green fields and golden in the rising sun, and her heraldry flowing in the peaceful winds of the world. But she was brought back to the present surroundings when she heard the sound of hooves approach her.

"How dare you belittle her Majesty!" shouted the woman that came behind her, drawing her sword. "Insolent fool, death is near you for such contempt. There is no one allowed on cursed grounds, least of all a man who dabbles in fairy stories of power and claims to wield a holy weapon!"

The woman pointed her sword at Siegfried, but Hilde held up her hand to silence her.

"Let him speak, Gerhilde. This is a parley, and no matter where we are, we will not adopt the savagery of those we fight. So sheathe your sword. I will pardon his words for the sake of urgency."

Gerhilde lowered her sword, glaring at Siegfried. Siegfried's anger dissipated as Hilde withdrew her spear and rode towards him. Her gaze remained fixed on Soulcalibur, but her expression did not soften. She paused for a moment to observe the crystalline armor shimmering on his shoulders, and almost drew back when she felt the chill emanating from his blood. The sight of the stranger did not comfort her, and she wondered why she dared approach him; his presence was not like the rising sun, on the contrary, it seemed to her that the cold morning mist had turned to ice. But with great effort, Hilde steeled herself and spoke.

"You are strange," she said quietly. "Not only because of the weapon you bear, but it is some power I have never seen nor felt that emanates from you and that blade in your hand. Akin to…"

She stopped before the next words were uttered, seeing her puzzled generals behind her, but she leaned towards Siegfried and continued.

"I have been informed of a man wielding a strange blade and armor of crystal traveling in the Black Forest. I admit that I also seek the basis of the legend of my kingdom to triumph over our enemies. You know of what I speak. The sword of purity and light. The sword you bear has the same qualities, and you cannot hide that from me. I felt its chill fall upon me, and I believe Gerhilde has felt it too, or she would not have been alarmed.

"I am not speaking from desperation, as I believe my army can destroy the castle and Nightmare. But if you have been granted power to defeat this evil, will you aid us, who also stand against it?" Her tone now was not hopeful, merely curious.

"No," Siegfried said firmly. "It is your duty to lead your troops to hope and victory, not mine. They follow your banner and not a weapon.

"But you are correct. In truth, I am the wielder of the sword in your legend. Nightmare holds the opposite Soul Edge. But if this is to be the last battle between these blades, humanity must not fight for, or alongside them, any longer. There have been enough wars bred from these blades, enough lives cast away for them. So do not be involved if the blades have not shaped your life."

A shadow passed over Hilde's face when she heard these words. Siegfried could not see a change in her stern expression, but he heard the proud voice break a little as she spoke again.

"I see," she replied at last. "There is nothing more for me to ask of you. Farewell."

Hilde steered her horse around and rode back to her troops. Behind them, Siegfried could discern the distant rumbling of siege engines and the thunder of the approaching storm, unwavering even as Wolfkrone raised their unsheathed swords and spears as a challenge to the clouded heavens. He could see Hilde at the forefront of the cavalry shouting orders he could not hear, and the grim faces of the soldiers that swore to follow her to death and darkness.

He watched the army encircle the deserted plain and alone, he turned to the dark woods towards Ostrheinsburg castle.


	4. Sins of the Lion

**Chapter 3**

Sins of the Lion

The path ahead was strewn with broken cannons, torn banners and rotted spears; the eerie reminders of the unceasing war in this cursed land. Though dark briars had already began to creep over dreadful path into Ostrheinsburg and bring it once more into anonymity, Siegfried still remembered fleeing down this same path seven years ago, as the memory of his madness still lingered on the ashen ground.

He had walked no more than a few hundred yards when he felt a strange sensation of being watched. Siegfried looked back. The forest he had emerged from was still behind him, as if he had not walked at all. Alarmed, he decided to continue towards the castle ruins, but after he had walked for a few more minutes, he realized was not getting any closer. The forest edge was still an arm's length behind him.

Siegfried looked at ground he stood on. The ashen dust of Ostrheinsburg was no longer still beneath the heavy fog that crept from the plains. It was shifting before his eyes as if a cold wind was sweeping it away.

The light in Soulcalibur suddenly flared as his surroundings began to fade. The castle ruins had dissolved in the darkness, and the trees that were once behind him now hid the overcast skies from view.

Siegfried took a step forward despite a strange heaviness that had now fallen upon his limbs. But his foot did not meet solid ground. He stumbled, and saw not the gray dust of the desolation, but a trickling stream that was not there before. What was happening?

He raised himself to his feet, still dazed. The darkness around him was slowly shifting, until a man emerged from the shadows, holding a zweihänder akin to his...

The man's armor was adorned as a general's and his stern brown eyes were fixed on Siegfried. His sword was unsheathed and graven with blue and gold runes. The figure spoke, and his voice echoed through the haze of Siegfried's mind and its familiarity tore at his heart.

"Siegfried."

"Father…?" Siegfried whispered.

The man nodded and grasped Siegfried's wrist as Siegfried swayed on the spot.

"But you can't be. You're…you're in these woods." Siegfried murmured weakly, looking at the dark canopy above him.

"Because of you I am wandering these dark woods, bound to the Earth, much like you are now," Frederick replied. "Is that why there is a curse upon your blood? Or why you have a strange blade that grows chill by the day, awaiting the day when you will meet your former self?"

The blue light from Soulcalibur blazed suddenly at these words, but power of the blade did not affect Siegfried this time; the fog grew thicker and he felt the great weariness fall heavier upon his limbs and mind.

"How can you know that?" he whispered.

"I have seen and heard many things, Siegfried. Of you and your quest, I have watched you since the beginning. I know that you seek atonement. But you must not commit anymore sins to do so. You say the rivalry between the two blades must draw to a close. But this time the world cannot stand between their powers or destinies. Neither can their wielders, if this is truly the end. That is not beyond human knowledge."

Siegfried's mind was numbed from these words. How could Soulcalibur bear the fate of the world, yet have no regard for what it protected?

Then he remembered his loss at the cathedral. The sword did not seem concerned for anything but the destruction of its enemy. Was he brought back merely as a vessel for its power? He clenched his fist, but the power that had coursed through his veins was now weaker, though still present, and clinging to his waning consciousness. The sword too, perhaps, was desperate fulfill its destiny.

Frederick spoke again, as if he heard Siegfried's thoughts. "I know your blade has brought you back from the brink of death. I have seen it. Though that blade is destined to end your living nightmare, its power also waxes with every strike. When you reach the end of your battles, its power will be too great for mortal hands; too great to be contained even in its physical form. It will be able to reshape the world or destroy it if you wish."

"I do not wish for any of that to happen. I vowed to end Nightmare and Soul Edge. I seek atonement for my sins, father. I have wronged and you know I have."

Frederick looked in Siegfried's eyes again and darkness could be seen in their depths.

"Was your first sin of the sword you are seeking to destroy or was your first sin from anger and violence towards those that you swore to protect? Your sin is in yourself, Siegfried."

His last words struck Siegfried like a death knell, and Siegfried felt the return of despair to his cold heart. The thought of failure, even with the sword of legend in his hand and Nightmare dead at his feet...Siegfried squeezed his eyes shut, trying to drown his growing doubt and the cursed ground beneath him seemed to shiver in response. But amidst these troubled thoughts, he felt Soulcalibur's anger rise, demanding him to slay this man and end his insolence―

"If you do not realize the nature of your sin, neither the light nor darkness will avail you. Abandon your doomed journey; seek your atonement without the weapons of your woe. Listen. I am your father. I will not lie." Frederick's tone was now more heated and urgent, and his hand tightened on Siegfried's wrist.

But Siegfried broke away. Frederick looked stunned, but he did not try to restrain Siegfried. Soulcalibur gleamed as it was drawn, chilling the air between them.

"You would raise your sword against your father?" Frederick said softly.

"You are no more than a phantom designed to waylay me," Siegfried replied through gritted teeth.

Siegfried swung his blade downwards at Frederick, but his strike went wide. Frederick stepped backwards and swung his sword sideways to parry Siegfried's second blow.

"You were never one to listen, Siegfried," Frederick said calmly, as he swung his zweihänder to the right, catching Siegfried off-guard and forcing him to the ground. Siegfried leapt to his feet with a cry and charged at the older knight, Soulcalibur cutting through the fog in a gleaming white arc. The sudden blow caused Frederick to stumble backwards and Siegfried stood up, green eyes aflame. As he turned to face Frederick again, Soulcalibur blazed suddenly like a burning star that illuminated the two knights alone. Frederick, who had appeared solid not more than a few moments ago, flickered before the overwhelming light from the blade while the trees around them remained tall and dark.

And Siegfried understood at last. Wrath overcame his caution and he dived onto the ground, both hands gripping the icy hilt of Soulcaibur. At the last second, Siegfried swung the blade upwards and Frederick fell back, defenseless. Siegfried stabbed forward, driving Soulcalibur almost to its hilt. It pierced Frederick before a sound could escape from his throat and Siegfried tore him asunder with another jerk of the crystal blade. The older knight's body fell forward, flesh collapsing into dust, until all that remained was a gaping skull and an unmoving pile of bones.

Siegfried stood there, breathing heavily as he struggled to stand. The phantom's bones lay uncovered, its empty eyes staring mockingly at him under the false moonlight. In cold fury, Siegfried raised Soulcalibur and clove the skull in two, letting its halves fall on the damp earth.

The core of the crystal blade dimmed as his anger subsided. He waited, but the accursed woods did not fade like the specter; any direction he walked led him back to the phantom's remains. He was trapped in his own mind; his own past.

* * *

The thought had scarcely passed over his mind when he heard a disembodied chuckle echoing from deep in the trees. Siegfried jerked towards the sound, but could see nothing.

"Who are you?" Siegfried demanded, raising Soulcalibur once more. "Show yourself!"

Then he felt the faintest tremor in the soft earth behind him, expecting to see the phantom rise again from the dust. But as he whirled around, he saw the tall figure of a white-cloaked man standing atop the phantom's remains. From Soulcalibur's dim glow, Siegfried discerned the sharp edge of a scythe the man held and a glint of gold from beneath the hood. Siegfried's fingers tightened on Soulcalibur's hilt.

"You again…how dare you mock the memory of my father for your own goals?" Siegfried hissed, lowering Soulcalibur and moving into an attack stance.

The man did not flinch, nor did he raise the scythe he held in his hand. "Such impudence. Sheathe your sword, Siegfried. It will do nothing here," the man replied without a hint of anger.

Furious at his words and calm demeanor, Siegfried lunged. The attack was quickly parried and Siegfried was thrown aside, crystal armor gouging the dead tree bark behind him.

A flicker of amusement could be seen in the man's living eye. "Have you forgotten where you stand? These woods are my doing and the way through this spell is through me. But if you will not believe the words of those wiser than you, I will not waste my time."

"What do you know, accursed s―" Siegfried snarled, reaching for Soulcalibur which had landed several feet away.

"What I know I have already told you."

"The words of a phantom are the words of a liar," Siegfried spat as he clambered to his feet.

"But you cannot deny the truth of what it said," was the curt reply.

The scythe was lowered and Siegfried felt its cold edge on his neck. His eyes strayed upwards to meet the sorcerer's eyes, undaunted.

"Can you not see the evil that befell the world because of your sins? You cannot hide from them, nor can you disguise them. Justice is not blind. No power in your veins will save you from final despair or grant you any redemption fitting your sins. Even those you wished to save are now marching to their deaths. What knowledge you have, or have attained, will betray you in the end. A curse upon your blood indeed."

Siegfried fell silent. He remembered Saria and Burke in his dark dreams. The tremble in the proud voice of the princess of Wolfkrone. The fear in the eyes of her troops when they first beheld him, believing him to be a herald of death rather than their salvation.

Siegfried could see the hooded man's eyes narrow. "Perhaps you begin to understand."

The sorcerer vanished and the forest was leveled before Siegfried's eyes. The desolation of Ostrheinsburg was once again reality, the black clouds silent before the storm. The memory of Soulcalibur's wrath (which he was painfully reminded of when he saw it unsheathed in his trembling hand) was still too near.

_Justice is not blind…_

The words came as a whisper at first. Siegfried closed his eyes. But the words of the sorcerer continued to echo through his mind, stronger than before. He opened his eyes and saw the gate of Ostrheinsburg so near, Soulcalibur's core shining in anticipation―_no power in your veins will save you from final despair_― but he held the Sword of Salvation, he was its chosen master…he was walking towards the castle gate, a hundred yards, fifty yards― _those you wished to save are now marching to their deaths_― the decrepit gate was now before him, its great timbers pulled apart, and he broke into a run, but already the clamor of steel was ringing through the ancient halls―

A cry of despair rang through the darkness. Soulcalibur fell clattering on the stone steps of the castle gate.

_A curse upon your blood indeed._

**A/N**

Today marks a year since the prologue was published. Snail's pace, I know. I'm still hoping I can finish before the next anniversary but it could still be out of reach. But for those who have stuck with me this far, thanks a lot!

Siegfried in this chapter suddenly realized that Frederick was an imposter. This is from both Frederick's advice of desertion and (less importantly and in an unsettling note) Soulcalibur's influence. And also, if anyone can guess where the chapter's title and setting came from, hooray! Reviews would be nice...they help me write ^_^


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